


until the night

by Murf1307



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Backstory, Developing Relationship, Fellatio, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Intersex Character, Intersex Count D (Pet Shop of Horrors), M/M, One Night Stands, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pining, Trans Character, Trans Count D, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murf1307/pseuds/Murf1307
Summary: D and Leon sleep together.  Then, of course, they both have to deal with the emotional fallout.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mothicalcreatures (laelreenia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laelreenia/gifts).



“You're a pretentious little shit,” Leon says, one evening, two glasses into a bottle of plum wine.

D smiles over the lip of his own glass.  Tonight, he will indulge, just for a little while.  Leon has been decent today, and on days when he's decent, it's difficult to remember why coming so near him is a bad idea.  “And what led you to that conclusion, Mr. Detective?”

Leon snorts.  “Because you're not any fucking older than me, right?  But you act like you're some kind of fuckin’, fuckin’ ageless magical whatever-the-fuck.”

D can't help but laugh.  “Perhaps I am a  _ little  _ pretentious.” The wine has him warm, and Leon's right: he's only twenty-five.

Grandfather would say that's no excuse, but Grandfather has no room to judge him when it comes to dallying with humans in his youth. 

So he reaches out and brushes some of Leon's hair out of his face.  For once, they're on the same couch; Leon sprawled enough to take up most of the space, and D folded into what remains.  Beyond that brief brush of fingers in Leon’s hair, they aren't touching. 

Leon looks at him, blinking, like he's surprised by the action.  His hand comes up, curling around D's wrist, keeping him from pulling away.

D is surprised at the lightness of the hold, and the cogs visibly turning in Leon’s head as they look at each other.  His fingers curl a little; if he bent them a little more, the tips of his nails might brush Leon’s hand. Another inadvisable touch, an inadvisable  _ evening _ , and Leon…

_ Such  _ an inadvisable man.

“Last time I was here this late,” Leon starts, carefully, “You drank tea, and I drank sake, and that kimono thing lost its flowers.”

Somehow, D understands the unspoken question:  _ If this happens, what do we lose? _

“We're both drinking wine tonight,” D says, just as carefully.   _ If anything is lost, it will be from both of us.  This night is not that one. _

Leon seems to understand; his grip on D's wrist firms, and D doesn't resist as Leon pulls him closer.  His hands are warm, and it feels…different, essentially so, than all of the physical contact he has with the animals.

Mankind may be merely another animal, but this man,  _ this  _ man, is of a kind D has never known.

They are very close, now.  Leon is watching him, expression guarded.

“Mister Detective?” D asks, softly, allowing himself a moment of flustered weakness.  Here, tonight, alone together, plum wine burning in their blood, D thinks he could permit a great many things.

“Shut up, D,” Leon murmurs, venomless, and then his mouth is on D's.

D sinks into the kiss, one arm draping across Leon's broad shoulders.  He has never felt something like this; as many kisses as he has had in his life, nothing touches the way Leon's mouth tastes against his.

Leon wraps an arm around D’s waist, and it creates an intense feeling of belonging and desire in him, wanting where he is wanted in return.

The kiss deepens, their mouths shifting and tongues meeting as Leon presses D back onto the couch.  The movement feels instinctive, and that means Leon has done this countless times before.

D’s hand clenches in the back of his shirt.  

Tonight, he will make Leon forget  _ all _ of them.

 

* * *

 

They stumble into the back of the shop — specifically, D's rooms, primarily devoid of the animals who fill the rest of the space.  D wants Leon alone, wants to  _ have  _ him alone.

Leon is remarkably quiet, his mouth against D's throat.  D's sure he's going to have a bruise, and his throat constricts a little in pleasure at the thought.  He digs his nails into Leon's back, bruising too, because he  _ will  _ leave his mark on this man if it kills him.

Eventually, they find D's bed, and D drags Leon down onto it, rolling the both of them so he's astride Leon's hips, rearing up above him.

Leon's fist clenches in the front of D's cheongsam, trying to pull D back down; D stays where he is, and the silk tears, revealing, D knows, a strip of his pale chest that Leon has never seen before.

“Shit,” Leon breathes, tossing the torn strip aside.  

D smirks, leaning down over him.  “Is this what you wanted, my dear detective?”

He knows that, for Leon, he is first and foremost a mystery to be solved, a thing to be  _ caught _ , and that, he presumes, is part of the appeal.

Leon, like his namesake, fancies himself a  _ hunter _ .

D has always wanted him to prove it.

Leon rolls his eyes, but he's smirking.  “Of course you're a fuckin’ tease,” he says, and his hand lands on the back of D's neck to keep him close.

D laughs, and  _ has  _ to kiss him for that.  Leon is truly like nothing else D has ever had, and he pulls him close, tearing Leon’s t-shirt — just to get back at him, a little, for the cheongsam, and to get his hands on Leon’s chest.  

“D,” Leon groans, “I  _ liked _ that shirt.” 

“My dear detective, it was awful, and this,” he slides his hand up Leon’s bare chest, “is much better.”

“And now you’re trying to flatter me,” Leon says, but his smirk says it’s working.  Leon’s hand shifts up to run his fingers through D’s hair, and the next kiss is deep and wet and dirty, even more than the others.

When D pulls up for air, his lips are swollen, and arousal pools low in his gut.  Straddling Leon is like Tantalus’s tree, and D works his fingers into Leon’s belt, throbbing with need.  “We’ll see how deserved the flattery is, won’t we?” he teases, undoing that belt.

Leon smirks, rolling his hips.  D groans, the friction delicious, even through silk and denim.

The cheongsam slips down off one of D's shoulders, and D sees Leon's eyes following the line of D's shoulder.  He shrugs the other shoulder in a rolling motion, baring that one as well.

“Fuckin’ tease,” Leon repeats, his hands curving around D's shoulders.

D shivers a little at the touch, hands tensing on Leon's belt buckle.  “You haven't seen anything yet, my dear detective,” he manages, finally undoing the belt and pulling it out from Leon's jeans.  He tosses it away with a  _ thwap  _ as it hits the floor beside the bed, smirking.

Leon smirks, too, hands sliding down as he rubs at D's nipples, drawing a ragged breath out of him.  He's always been sensitive there, and it's more intense now, with Leon between his legs.

D undoes the fly of Leon's jeans, slipping a hand into them, and into his underwear, curling his hand around Leon's cock.

“ _ Fuck,  _ D,” Leon groans.  “Fuck yeah, that's good.”

“I should hope so,” D replies, smirking.  He rolls his hips again, wanting to get a little friction himself.

Leon pulls him down for another kiss.  When the kiss ends, Leon whispers in his ear, “I wanna fuck you, if you’re into that.”

D’s insides twitch, and he moans.  “Yes,  _ please _ .”

“Good,” Leon says, voice almost a growl.  “You’re gonna look really pretty on my dick, y’know.”

“Filthy,” D breathes, kissing him again.

Leon slides his hands down D’s back, beneath the silk, to grip D’s ass and haul him closer.  D keeps stroking him, slowly, teasingly. The whole situation is painfully arousing, and D aches to be filled, and aches equally for friction.

“Mind if I tear this up a little more?” Leon says, tugging at the ripped cheongsam.

It's already essentially destroyed, so D nods.  “Feel free.”

And Leon does, tearing down the back of the garment before sliding around to start pulling the silk away from D's skin.

It's at this point that D remembers that Leon doesn't  _ know  _ something, well, a little bit pivotal to the proceedings.  He wraps a hand around Leon's wrist, tugging it away. “Let me show you,” he murmurs, heart rate spiking.

Though, given Leon's clear preference for women, this might  _ please  _ him.

The thought is an unbidden and ugly one, and D tries to crush it, slowly peeling away his ruined cheongsam, legs spread as he pops up a little, so Leon can see  _ everything. _

“...You've got…?”

“Yes.” D looks away.  “I'll understand if this is too strange for you.”

Leon's hands slide up D's thighs.  “Shit, D, you know I was only expecting one or the other, y'know?” His thumb brushes the crease of D's thigh.  “But I can roll with both, sure.”

D looks down at him, and Leon seems...almost enthralled, his hands getting closer and closer to D's genitals.

“Can I — is there anything you don't want me touching?” Leon asks.  “I was with this chick once, and she had a d—”

D leans down, pressing one finger to Leon's lips to shut him up.  “I don't want to hear about any of your women tonight, my dear detective.” He smirks a little.  “Keep that in mind, and you can touch anything you please.”

Leon's answering smirk is absolutely  _ filthy. _

 

* * *

 

It's not that D hates any particular part of his body.  His body is singular, certainly, making him both distinct from humanity  _ and  _ from his own kind.

But he is a man, if an effeminate one, and most people would take one look at his cunt and refuse to call him anything but a woman, and  _ that _ , he simply cannot abide.

Leon, though, takes it all surprisingly in stride, and right now, his fingers are teasing the edges of D's entrance in a way that makes D  _ shudder _ for more.  His other hand his curled around his cock, which fits entirely in the circle of Leon's fist, smaller by far than the average human man.

Again, though, Leon seems fine with all of that, and he smirks, pressing a finger inside D.

“Finally,” D gasps.  Given his fingernails, he can't do this for himself, and the feeling of Leon's blunt finger inside him is an exquisite, rare pleasure indeed.

“You like that, huh?” Leon asks, sounding very pleased with himself.

D gives him a glare without any heat.  “What does it look like?”

Leon laughs, and  _ strokes _ D's insides, as though he's searching for something, testing.  A moment later, he finds it: a patch of flesh inside D that makes him almost writhe in pleasure.  

“ _ And  _ you have a g-spot.  Fuckin’ jackpot, D.” Leon keeps rubbing at that spot, and in the face of that onslaught, D can't withstand it for long:

He orgasms, his cock twitching as his cunt pulses, and Leon keeps touching him through, pulling more pleasure out of him in ways that feel  _ impossible _ .  

“L-leon,” he gasps, when the pleasure fades to oversensitivity and pain.  “Please.”

Leon stops, immediately, slowly pulling his finger out of D, his other hand settling on D's hip.  “Need a minute?”

“Yes, please,” D manages, going a little limp against Leon's chest.

“Got it,” Leon says, wrapping his arm around D and just holding him for minute. “Shit, though, you come really damn pretty.”

D flushes.  “Don't flatter me; you hardly need to at this point.”

Leon laughs.  “I’m just being honest.”

He is; D has known Leon for long enough to be able to say that with complete certainty.  The moment feels...not surprising, exactly, but unusually normal, despite how abnormal this whole situation is.

D shouldn’t want this, but he yearns for more of it.  So, slowly, he reaches down between them, trying to guide Leon’s cock between his legs.  He may be sensitive, but he does want so very badly to be fucked. He’ll ride Leon for it, even, if that’s what the man prefers — he just  _ needs _ it, now, however he can get it.

“You wanna ride me?” Leon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I want your cock inside me,” D corrects.

He’s not expecting Leon to flip them over, and that’s the only reason that the man even can,  it moments later, D is blinking  _ up  _ at Leon, his own hair fanning out across the pillow Leon’s head just occupied.

“Like this?” Leon asks, and he’s pressing the head of his cock between the slick folds of D’s cunt just enough that he can tease at the edges of the opening itself.  

“Please,” D murmurs.

He gets his wish, and more besides; Leon does not take it slow as he sheathes himself inside D all the way to the hilt in one thrust.

D gasps at the sudden intrusion, but he likes it, likes the sensation of being filled so fully and so quickly, before his body has quite had the time to adjust to the idea.  He moans, wrapping his legs around Leon to hold him there for a moment, long enough that he can catch this feeling and hold it. 

Leon kisses him, then, and it's like the completion of a circuit, sparking at every point where their skin touches.  D moans into it, body alight with pleasure, and reaches up to take Leon's face in his hands.

Leon responds by running his fingers through D's hair, and D has never wanted anything more than he wants this man in his bed.

“Shit, D, you feel good, so fuckin’ good,” Leon manages.

“Language, my dear,” D says, laughing breathlessly.  “Now, why don't you fuck me?”

Leon growls a word that might be  _ hypocrite _ , and rolls his hips faster than D is prepared for.  D whimpers, a dash of pain in the pleasure only heightening it, like salt intensifying the sweetness of caramel.

D kisses him and hitches his own hips to meet Leon's thrusts, loving the way their bodies fit together.  It feels so good, but it also feels  _ right,  _ as though this is precisely where the two of them should be, and when he's less blinded by pleasure, he'll be sure to worry about that, but for now, he merely revels in the feeling.

“D, I hate to say it, but I'm not gonna — not gonna last much longer,” Leon says.  “Can I — should I pull out?”

“No,” D says, quickly.  “I'm not — I'm not fertile.”

Leon wrinkles his nose.  “You didn't have to say it like  _ that _ .”

D retaliates by rolling his hips harder, drawing Leon's attention back to what's going on between them.  D wants to feel him, wants the wetness of Leon's release to join his own inside his body, even more aroused by the very thought of it.

Leon growls again and gets right back to the intense fucking he's been giving D.

Neither of them lasts long after this, and Leon is the first to give in, sheathing himself totally inside D once again and coming hard, fingers tugging D's hair as he does.

It pushes D over the edge as well, that feeling of Leon's release coating the inside of his cunt.  He shudders, thighs tensing, inner walls pulsing as his body laps up Leon's come like this is what they both were made for.

Leon slumps against him but doesn't pull out yet, seemingly too tired.

D reaches up and runs his fingers through Leon's hair, undoing his hair tie as he does.  “Well, my dear detective, that was certainly something.”

“Oh, shut up.” There's no rancor in it, though.

D closes his eyes and laughs, just a little, before he falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Leon walks into the precinct, and well, it's either the whistling that gives him away, or it's the claw marks from D's nails against the side of his neck.

They'd gone another round this morning, and  _ shit,  _ it really  _ has _ been too long since he got laid.

Jill drags him aside, her eyes wide.  “Oh my God, it finally happened!”

_ Fuck. _

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You finally got with Count D!” At least she didn't yell it loud enough for the whole precinct to hear; he's just not fuckin’ ready for  _ that  _ conversation.

He rolls his eyes.  “What's it to you? We got drunk and fooled around.”

That's all it was.  That's all it  _ can  _ be, because anything more than that complicates shit way too much.  Between D looking after Chris, and shit, Leon's  _ still  _ trying to find a reason to arrest the man, and the fact that Leon is  _ definitely not gay _ , anything more than fooling around is not in the cards.

She smirks and shakes her head.  “Sure, you keep telling yourself that, Leon.”

 

* * *

 

He's distracted from D by a day at work that's honestly pretty rough.  He didn't have to shoot anyone, but it  _ almost  _ came to that, and he's fucking exhausted.

It's not until he's standing in line at a hole-in-the-wall Italian bakery, trying to figure out if it's too far a walk to pick up one of those frozen things D had for Chris last week, or if he should just grab some cannolis, that he realizes that  _ he's going back to D's. _

He's never done that with a one-off before, but it's habit by now to get off work, get some weird dessert, and head down to Chinatown.  He's been doing it, on and off at first, since before Chris, if he's honest with himself.

Well, fuck.

He can freak out about this later, because it's late, and Chris might already be asleep for the night, and he's not going to fuck up the good the pet shop has done for Chris.

Sure, it'd be good if Chris had human friends his own age, and the telepathy shit is  _ weird _ , but…

Chris is happy, and Leon's not gonna screw that up for him just because Leon needed to get his dick wet and D happened to be right there and willing.

He buys a dozen cannoli on autopilot and walks up the street.

Fuck.  And then there's just  _ D _ to think about. 

D, with two kinds of junk between his legs, and he  _ really  _ shouldn't be into that, but he definitely  _ is  _ into it in ways he can't think about in public, so, moving on:

D had been fucking incredible in bed.  Hell of a lot stronger than he looks, and Leon will probably have the image of D straddling him in that torn cheongsam burned into his brain for the rest of his god-damned life, and shit, he realizes as he turns the corner onto the street the pet shop is on…

He wants to do it again.

He wants to sleep with D again, which means this whole exercise — sleeping with him in the first place to try and get it out of his system — has backfired  _ horribly. _

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls.  “This is the  _ opposite of _ —“

He cuts himself off.  Folks in this neighborhood like D, god knows why, and he doesn’t need to make anything harder on himself by being visibly pissed off at the guy.

Because he’s pissed off.  That’s what this feeling is, absolutely.

He arrives at the shop, and the door is open, but the lights are low, making the shop seem darker and more foreboding.

Nevertheless, it’s not a bona fide  _ bad feeling _ , so he keeps going.

When he hits the the bottom of the stairs, there’s incense in the air, which, admittedly,  _ does  _ put him a little bit on guard.

“D?  You down there?” he asks.

Someone moves, laughing, and it’s not D.  “The police officer,” comes the feminine voice presumably attached to the laugh and the movement.  “Why should I tell you where he is?”

“Look, lady, I don’t have time for this.  I stood in line for like twenty minutes for these stupid cannolis, so he  _ has  _ to eat ‘em before the cream goes bad or whatever.”  Leon steps forward toward where he thinks he saw the movement.  

She laughs again.  “Good.”

Stepping out of the shadows comes a — he’s not sure  _ what  _ she is, but she’s not human.  Between the scales, the blue-green of her skin, and her fucking  _ glowing orange eyes _ , that’s pretty obvious.  He’s not even sure she’s a she, because she’s flat as a board, on top of everything else.

“I’ll let you pass into the back.  The young Count will likely be upset if he doesn’t get his sweets, won’t he?”

“Shit, just let me go see him, alright?  This overdramatic bullshit’s just annoying now.”  Leon crosses his arms. “Does he know you’re doing this?”

She sighs.  “Fine, fine.”  She snaps her fingers, and somewhere behind her, a candle lights.  Turns out, she’s also got a  _ tail _ .  Jesus Christ, what the  _ fuck _ is going on here?  He’s never had something like this happen, before, even in the shop.

But there’s a door behind her, so he passes her and heads through it.

 

* * *

 

Shit, how big  _ is  _ this fucking pet shop?

Chris is in here somewhere, and it’s only because he knows D would never let Chris get hurt that he’s not freaking out about that.

Eventually, he finds a door he thinks he recognizes, and it opens.

D’s bedroom, thank  _ fuck. _

And D’s there, wrapped in this floaty, sheer robe-thing, leaning up on one elbow and looking at him like he’s shocked to see him, eyes wide and lips parted.

Leon smirks.  “What, were you expecting me not to show up?”

“It’s fairly late,” D points out.  “I’ve already put Chris to bed.” 

“Yeah, I figured.”  He wants to see D anyway.  He lifts the bag of cannolis up a little.  “Brought you a present.”

D sits up.  “Are those…?”

“Yeah, from that place last month.”  He walks over to the bed and drops the bag on it, the cannolis crackling a little when they land with an otherwise soft thump.

“...Thank you,” D murmurs, surprisingly softly.  “I very much enjoyed them, last time.”

Leon scratches the back of  his neck. “It’s not that big a deal.  It’s not too far from the precinct, so…”  He’s not sure why D’s being so quiet.

“Nevertheless.  I always appreciate a good gift, my dear detective.”

Leon shrugs.  “Sometimes you throw shit,” he points out.  “But I figured you’d like these, ‘cuz I sure as shit wasn’t gonna get one of those frozen things back here fast enough.”

D laughs behind his hand, opening the bag.  “No, I think a semifreddo would be much better in the summer.”

Leon puts his hands in his pockets.  “So, uh. How was your day?”

“It was fine?” D cranes his neck to look up at Leon.  “You don’t normally ask after the shop. Is something wrong?”

“No,” Leon says, flushing.

“Then, sit and join me.”

This whole conversation is really too fucking awkward, so Leon just sits down, keeping his shoes off the bed, because that’s the sort of thing he’s sure D would bitch about, and he’s not in the mood for D’s bitching.

Sometimes he is.  Sometimes he  _ likes  _ fighting with D, and he’s never admitted that before.

Shit, tonight’s just a wave of self-reflective bullshit, isn’t it?

“My dear detective?” D asks, and his voice is almost hesitant.  “You seem...elsewhere.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry.”  He runs his hand back through his hair.  “It just...rough day, y’know? By the end of it, I just kind of...wanted to go home.”

D blinks.  “But, instead, you came here.”

Well, fuck.  “I mean...Chris is here, right?  He’s family, so…”

“Ah.  Of course.”  D looks away, reaching into the bag and plucking a cannoli out of it.  “Would you like one?”

Leon’s probably hearing things, but D almost sounds...disappointed.

“Nah, it’s fine.  I’m not really hungry.”  He sighs. “Sorry for bothering you, I guess.”  He has no idea what he’s doing, no idea what to say.  Something’s really wrong, and he thinks he might know what it is.

D probably regrets sleeping with him.  That’s probably it.

“I’m glad you came to see your brother.  He...very much looks up to you. You could say he  _ lionizes _ you, even.”  There’s a sudden glint in D’s eye.

All thoughts of regret and the overarching situation flee Leon’s head.  “Shut the hell up, that’s the  _ worst  _ pun.”

D laughs, just a little.  “You like puns, though.”

Leon’s not sure when D figured that out, but it’s true.

Shit, maybe...maybe they know each other too well for this to be the kind of  _ thing _ that can just be about sex.  That could be  _ really bad. _

“Yeah.”  Leon glances over at D.  “...You sure you’re okay?”

D flushes, but tries to hide it by dipping his head as he pulls the next cannoli out of the bag.  “I’m fine,” he insists, and Leon’s not sure how he can tell he’s trying to bullshit him, but he totally is.

“Doesn't sound like it.”

D lets out a deep, frustrated sigh — yep, looks like Leon's right — and looks out into the middle distance.  “Yet you, mister Detective, are as yourself as ever.”

Shit.

_ D's  _ having a crisis about their one-night stand?

Did Leon walk into some Mirror Universe while he was lost in the bowels of the shop?  Is evil Spock going to show up?

This is all just too fucking  _ weird. _

“I mean, this whole thing is fucking surreal, I'm not gonna pretend it's not,” Leon concedes.  “But pretty much everything is, with you, so I guess I just gotta roll with it, right?” He shrugs.  “I mean, I'm still gonna figure it all out someday, but in the meantime…”

D laughs, then stops himself, as if he's surprised he did.  He looks at Leon again, one of his mysterious little smiles not quite reaching his eyes.  “I would have thought you would be angry.”

“Angry?   _ D _ .  Last night was some of the best sex I've ever had, and  _ then  _ we had a quickie this morning.  I'm not sure I could be angry about that if I tried.” He shrugs again.  “Good sex is good sex.” Sure, it had been weird as fuck, but definitely not the weirdest sex he's ever had — that blonde in college had been, well, she'd been  _ something,  _ that's for sure.

“I  _ am  _ a man,” D insists, as if he needs to.

Leon nods, not getting why D feels the need to point it out.  “Yeah?”

“You have  _ repeatedly  _ identified yourself as a heterosexual man,” D continues, his tone getting almost...Leon doesn't wanna say  _ huffy _ , because it seems like this is important to D, but that's kind of how it sounds to him.

“Yeah.  I'm not seeing the problem?” He wouldn't be the first straight guy with an exception or two, right?

D sighs.  “It is  _ concerning _ .  I do not want you to see me as anything but a man, mister detective.”

Oh.

Well, what the  _ hell _ is he supposed to say to that?

“You make it pretty clear you're a guy,” Leon points out.  “And I guess, with, uh, your setup, you get to take your pick, right?”

D blinks at him.  “That is not remotely how  _ any  _ of this works.”

“Well, how  _ does  _ it work?” It's not like he'd have a clue — he's a guy, he's always been a guy, and everybody knows he's a guy by looking at him.

D sighs.  “It's too complicated for me to explain tonight.  It's getting late, after all.”

“I have tomorrow off,” Leon points out.

“I do not,” D rebuts, narrowing his eyes.

Leon rolls his eyes.  “You run this place. I've seen you close up for a broken nail, D.”

D tenses.  “I do not wish to discuss intimate details of my mind and body with you tonight, Detective.” He looks away.  “Please do not ask me to.”

Well, shit.  Looks like he's fucking this up already.  “Okay. Uh. D'you...d'you want me to go?”

D looks outright  _ wounded _ , but only for an instant.  “No.”

“...Okay, then.”

“Unless you want to leave?”

Leon shakes his head.  “Not, uh, not really.” His apartment is halfway across the city, and it's dark and cold and empty.

It could catch fire and he wouldn't really give a damn.

The things that matter are all  _ here _ .

He bats that thought aside before it can sink in, and bites the inside of his cheek.  “So. What now?”

D folds himself over to place the bag of cannolis on the floor, and then his hands are on Leon, and Leon can't think about anything but that.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, D wakes before the sun.  This is not abnormal for him; he likes to rise early, especially now with Chris over so often.  Rising early allows him to ready himself for the day before Chris wakes, and ready breakfast before Leon inevitably arrives.

But this morning, Leon is already here.  In D’s bed. The same way he was the morning before.

His arm is across D’s waist, and they are spooning.  D needs to get up, to start his day, but Leon’s face is pressed against the back of D’s neck, and he isn’t sure if the man might wake if he moves.

The  _ last _ thing he needs is for Leon to see him like this.  In the aftermath.

It was different, yesterday morning; they woke at the same time, and Leon had already been inside him; the natural thing had been to act, not think, and that, at least, had put off the inevitable.

But all D can do in  _ this _ moment is think.

It unsettles him, the  _ ways  _ in which Leon seems to want him.  It shouldn’t be this easy. Never once in bed with Leon has he been made to feel as though he is a curiosity, which has happened before.  It seems impossible that this brash, unthinking, easily-angered creature could look between D’s legs and  _ not _ react that way.

But Leon simply seems to want him.  He hadn’t shied away from any part of D’s body, nor had he tried to direct things toward D’s cunt before D made it clear he wanted that.

How is it  _ this _ man, of all men, who treats D in this manner?

Behind him, Leon begins to stir, his arm tightening around D’s waist just a hair.  D stays still, waiting.

_ Eventually _ , he thinks.  Eventually, it will hit Leon, what they’ve done together, and D will be hurt by his reaction, and everything will have to end.  He must ready himself for this, and the knowledge, the certainty, twinges in his chest.

Leon makes a soft noise against the back of his neck, almost a whuffling sound, his nose buried in D’s hair.  

D lays a hand over Leon’s arm where it wraps around him.

How could he have been so foolish?  To allow a mortal man so close, despite every reason to push him away, or let the carnivores take him — Grandfather would be ashamed of him.

Father, though...Father would  _ understand _ , and that is much worse.

 

* * *

 

When Leon finally wakes for real, D has managed to wiggle out of his grasp, and is seated at his vanity, combing his hair.

Of course, the comb comes away clean with every swipe; D’s hair has never once tangled in his entire life.  But the movement is soothing, recalling his childhood, before he first became aware that he was as different from his family as he was from the humans they lived beside.

_ “Sunnu _ ,” Grandfather would tell him, “ _ The first daughter of our kind in two thousand years.” _

In the present, distracted by the past, D has placed the comb back down on his vanity, staring at himself in the mirror.

If his Father had succeeded  _ or _ failed, this would not have been his lot in life.  Instead, he exists somewhere between, as his father’s son and his grandfather’s granddaughter.   _ Half-finished _ , Father had murmured, before he left D alone with Grandfather.

“D?” Leon’s voice breaks through the memories.

D turns to him, posture perfect as always, as it must be.  “Yes, my dear detective?”

“It’s early.”  Leon gets out of bed, fully nude, scratching his stomach.  Sometime in the night, his hair tie vanished, and his hair falls around his shoulders.

Somehow, for just a moment, in the dim of the early morning, D is transfixed.

“Yes.  I have to be ready for your brother and all the diurnal creatures to wake.  The cats are likely already sniffing around for breakfast.” It’s easy to fall back on the shop and on Chris as an excuse.

He is not ready to be held by this man for longer than it takes to have sex and sleep it off.  And Leon, without question, would attempt to keep him close.

It’s such a  _ human _ drive.

Luckily, it isn’t one D possesses.  

“Alright,” Leon says, nodding.  “You sure?”

D can  _ see  _ his flaccid penis twitch with interest, and he glares at it briefly before meeting Leon’s eyes.  “Quite sure.”

Leon nods.  “Okay.” He starts moving around the room, seemingly looking for his clothes.  

D turns back to the mirror to finish combing his hair, wrapped in another robe; he likely won’t change into day clothes until it’s nearly time to open the shop for the day.  The last thing he needs right now is to undress in front of Leon, after all.

When Leon is dressed, he approaches D from behind; D sees him in the mirror.  “So, uh. What should I do?”

D cocks his head, because he now has a choice before him.  Either he brings Leon with him on his morning rounds of the shop, exposing him to many of its secrets, or he gets Leon out of his hair somehow.

He chooses the latter.  “The French bakery with the unusual macarons opens quite early.  Do you think you could trouble yourself to go procure some?”

Leon winces.  “Gonna bleed me dry,” he says, but the tone of his voice says he’s teasing.  “But yeah, sure.” 

He brushes his hand over D’s shoulder and heads for the door.  

D watches him go, and there is something he should say, something, but he cannot find the words to say it.

When Leon is gone, he slips off his robe.

 

* * *

 

**_Hey, Count!_ **

Chris is bright-eyed when he and Pon find the front of the shop later that morning.  D smiles to see them together; while Chris takes well to early mornings, Pon is much less interested in anything but going back to sleep.

**_Did big bro come by yet?_ ** Chris has a moment of concern.

D nods.  “Yes, he’s just gone out to get some macarons.  Do you remember the coconut-hibiscus ones we had a few weeks ago?”

Chris grins.   **_Oh, yeah!  Those are awesome!_ **

“Your brother should be back any minute now.  I thought we might have a few with breakfast. Would you like some tea?”

Chris nods, settling in his favorite chair and waiting patiently as D pours and sugars Chris's tea.  While D takes his tea without additives, he knows that a good, strong Chinese black tea can be a bit much for a Western palette.

He passes Chris his teacup and saucer.  “Be careful, it's hot.”

**_Uh-huh,_ ** Chris says, and puts the saucer down to examine today's breakfast.  D has prepared a fully vegetarian meal, with red bean buns, fried green beans in a brown sauce, and a collection of other small dishes.

Leon is bound to hate it, but D would welcome that return to normalcy.

Chris is reaching for a bun when the door to the shop opens, the chime jingling, and Leon's voice finds them before the man does:

“Jesus Christ, D, I was on line for an  _ hour  _ for these, I coulda got a whole  _ breakfast  _ in that time, with bacon and eggs and toast and shit —” He rounds the paper wall.  “Morning, Chris, you been up long?”

**_Nah._ **  Chris grins a little.   **_You have today off, right?_ **

“Yup,” Leon says, popping the “puh” sound as he passes D the box of macarons.  His newly freed hand snags a bun as he sits down in his usual spot, a newspaper in his other hand.

Leon bites into the bun and frowns.  “Beans?”

“I presumed you and Chris would be going out,” D points out.  “You can certainly eat meat while you're gone.”

Human beings are omnivorous; it is not in their nature to restrict their diets.  And while D does not prepare meat for himself, he has somehow found himself  _ caring  _ about the health and well-being of two humans, and that means making adjustments.

Thus, on days it seems likely that Chris will be spending the day in the shop, D will make meat dishes for him, since Chris has no particular control over his diet.

“Huh.  Okay.” Leon shrugs a little.  “Anywhere you wanna go, kiddo?”

**_The park, maybe?  We haven’t played catch in a while._ **

“Yeah, sure.”  Leon smiles at his brother. 

The scene is exceptionally domestic, and D should be disgusted with himself for allowing these two so close, to the point where Chris half  _ lives _ in the shop.  

But he cannot help himself.  Perhaps, his thoughts mock him, he is a little too human himself.

_ Inadequate _ for Grandfather’s mission, their people’s vengeance.

“D?” Leon’s voice cuts through his dark thoughts.  “You plannin’ some kind of picnic or something in there?  Chris wants another cup of tea.”

D blinks.  “You have hands, my dear detective,” he points out, voice dripping with his own brand of mockery — perhaps he’ll feel better if he can get a rise out of Leon.  Not the kind of rise he got last night, obviously, but a rise all the same.

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna risk breaking your teapot, given how bad you take it when you break a nail.”  Leon practically snaps back, and then they’re off, arguing about good breeding and manners and the usual suspects when it comes to their disagreements, while D pours tea and Leon half-reads the paper and Chris eats.

By the end of the meal, D feels much better.

 

* * *

 

That said, D does not join the Orcots in their trip to the park.  As much as he enjoys — yes, he will admit to it — both of their company, he  _ does _ still need to run the shop.  

It’s a somewhat slow day, though, in terms of customers, and that leaves D with quite a bit of time to think.

Thinking, though, is rather the thing he’d been trying to avoid.

Why must this happen to him?  He’d been good. He’d done everything Grandfather asked of him, but now, this...He has debased himself by allowing himself to care so deeply.

_ Especially _ for Leon.  He’s making the mistake his father made before him, in caring so much for  _ this _ man.

Not that he knows the name of his own human parent; Father never spoke of him except sideways, and Grandfather refuses to acknowledge that D is anything  _ but _ a member of their line, divorced from humanity back in both their species’ infancies.  But Father made this mistake, and now, D is making it again.

He puts down his current cup of tea just before a voice from his elbow makes him jump: “Count?”

It’s one of the cats, worming her head onto his thigh.  This one is called Mathilde, and her animal form is white, long-haired and blue-eyed.  Her line comes out of Northern Europe, but she was born in the shop.

“Yes, Mathilde?”

“Shouldn’t you have your mate and his whelp of a brother living here in our home?” She asks, her eye twinkling.  “They already spend so much time here — why not include them in our territory?”

_ Your mate. _  Things are so simple, for wild creatures.  

“A man like Leon would not take well to being asked to move into a territory he did not define himself,” D explains to her.  “As much as I might like it if he did.”

“Human men are stupid,” Mathilde muses.  “At least cats will go where there is free food and shelter and warmth.  Human men will deny themselves so many pleasures, just because of their pride.”

D smiles, just a little, and pets her head.  “Mathilde, I could not agree more.”

She purrs, and soon, she falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Chris and Leon return to the shop. they’re both in very high spirits.

**_Count!  Guess what we saw at the park?_ ** Chris is rocking up on the balls of his feet as he slides to a stop in front of D.

“What did you see?” 

Chris grins.   **_A family of Mandarin ducks!  Like the ones you had a couple of months ago, that’s how I recognized them._ **

“Oh my,” D says, smiling.  “That’s certainly unusual for Los Angeles.”

“Nothing to worry about, though, right?” Leon asks, but he doesn’t sound all that concerned.  “Just some weird ducks.”

“Indeed,” D agrees, because it’s true.  Sometimes a duck is merely a duck.

**_I’m gonna go tell Honlon about them!_ **

With that, Chris turns and heads into the back of the shop, leaving D and Leon alone together for the first time since morning.

Leon puts his hand in his pockets and takes a deep breath.  “We gotta talk,” he says, meeting D's eyes determinedly, as if he's not looking forward to the conversation, either, but it has to happen.

“Do we?” A last ditch effort, if ever there was one.

“Yeah,” Leon says.  “D, you've been...weird...all day.  And I don't know if it has to do with last night, if it's something I said or did, but  _ something _ isn't right.”

D bends to gather his teacup and saucer, to buy himself time before he answers.  “I don't know what you mean.”

Leon sighs.  “Look, I can't keep doing this, if this is gonna be how you react.  Okay? Something's not right here, and if it's me, then I need you to tell me that, so I can do something about it.”

His frustration is obvious, and he's well intentioned, and this is  _ not _ making any of this easier.

D puts the teacup and saucer down again, folding his hands together in front of his body.  “Leon,” he says, not allowing himself to hide behind insults or endearments — he can at least give Leon that kind of honesty — “It...I've never had this kind of affair before.”

His phrasing pulls a little bit of a smile out of Leon.  “Me either,” he admits. “One night stands, sure. Girlfriends, sometimes.  But not...this.”

It's almost comforting, that Leon doesn't know what to call it, either.

“This is...intimate,” D murmurs.  “In ways I have not allowed myself to be.”  Fear pricks at his guts to admit it, to admit his vulnerability to the creature that has  _ rendered  _ him so vulnerable.  

Leon nods, and steps toward him, just for a moment, careful as a man like him can be.  “Me too.”

D wets his lower lip with his tongue.  “Is it —  _ what _ is this?”

“What is it, to you?” Leon asks, his face flushing a little.  “What...what do you want this to be?”

Somehow, D hadn’t been expecting that particular kind of question; it shocks him into silence for a very long moment.   _ What does he want? _

He wants Leon.  That much is not new.  It is not the wanting that’s the issue.

It’s  _ having. _

“I want...more of this.”  D waves, dismissively, at the table, at the two of them.  “I want you returning to me at night. I want you to come to my bed, as a matter of course.”

Leon nods.  “But, I guess...the thing I need to know…”  Leon takes a very deep breath, and D can read tension in the lines of his shoulders.  “If we do this. If this is really gonna work out, I can’t go in and half-ass it. Chris is already caught up in this place.  If it doesn’t work, if  _ we _ don’t work…”

D nods, dread pooling in his stomach.  “Of course,” he murmurs.

“I want all that shit you said, too,” Leon says, quietly.  “Kind of a lot. I was thinking about it today, at the park.  This is — this is a good life. I might’ve fallen into it on accident, but…”

“You have it, now, and you want to keep it.”  D inhales. “That’s only natural.”

“Shut up,” Leon says, shaking his head with a little smile.  “I’m trying to tell you I love you, you asshole.”

_ That _ , D certainly did not expect to hear.

“And, y'know, it's fine if you don't feel the same.  But I need to know that now, and we need to stop sleeping together, because I can't get fucked up over you if I still have to see you every day.” Leon seems ready to accept that, as if D has already  _ said  _ that's what's going to happen.

D shakes his head.  “Don't make assumptions, you oaf,” he says, crossing the space between them in a few steps and curling his hand in the front of Leon's shirt.

When he kisses Leon on the mouth, this time, it feels a little bit like breaking free.

Leon's hands land on his hips and drag him closer.  He laughs into the kiss, and D's not sure he's ever heard a sweeter sound come out of the man.

By the time the night is over, there will be no going back, and finally, D finds himself okay with that.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, when Leon wakes up in D's bed, it just feels right.  Sure, it's too fuckin’ early, and he has to get down to the precinct soon, but those are incidental.

Right now, the thing that matters is that D's spooning him, his sleek body molded against Leon's back, and, well, looks like they've  _ both  _ got morning wood today, because D doesn't carry and Leon's gun is on D's dresser.

If he's honest with himself, which he's trying to be, he likes D's junk way more than he probably should.

Sure, he doesn’t have much experience with dick, besides the girl he’d slept with in college, and hers behaved different from D’s to begin with, anyhow.  But this is D, and he’s into D more than he’s ever been into any particular kind of junk.

He lets a hand creep back to find D’s hip.  “Hey, D,” he murmurs. “I gotta get up soon.”

D stirs a little as he squeezes his hip.  “What?”

“Time to wake up, sleeping beauty.”  Leon twists a little in his hold, as much as he can, given how strong D is.  “Want me to take care of this for you?” he asks, his hand creeping down to brush at the base of D’s dick.

He can see a little bit of a blush through the curtain of D’s hair.  “Oh, would you?”

“Absolutely,” Leon says, grinning a little.  “Lay back,” he tells him, pushing gently at D’s shoulder.  “I need some room to maneuver.”

D moves, his hair fanning across the pillow.  “Are you…?”

“You’ll see,” Leon says, with a little more mischief in his grin.

Right now, he feels damned lucky, and get wants to share that feeling with D.  He leans down, dragging his lips down D's chest and swiping his tongue across the sensitive spot at the base of his rib cage that Leon had discovered last night.

D groans, just a little.  His fingers land in Leon's hair.  “Leon…”

“Shh,” Leon hushes him, his hands at work spreading D's legs so Leon can get between them the way he wants.  He licks down the plane of D's stomach, pausing to nip gently at the crease of his hip before going further.

Now that they're both situated how Leon wants them, he curls his hand around the base of D's dick.

D moans Leon's name again, and Leon fucking loves that sound so much, his name vibrating in D's mouth.  Especially given how he calls him “Detective” and all that shit in public.

“That's it, baby,” he breathes, stroking D a couple of times before holding him still.  “You okay with head?”

“Yess…” D breathes out.

Leon smirks.  “Alright, then.” He hasn't  _ really  _ done this before, because the girl in college didn't get hard, and D  _ definitely is _ , but he figures he's had his own sucked enough times to reverse-engineer the process.

Carefully, he wraps his lips around the head of D's cock, sliding the flat of his tongue underneath it.

“ _ Oh _ ,” D manages, sounding surprised.

Leon sucks gently on the head of his cock, stroking at the base.  D isn't big; he can curl D's whole cock in his fist, with a little space left over; and so Leon takes his hand away and sucks him deeper.

He wonders what kind of experience D has with this, and hopes that, whatever the case, he measures up in some way.  He’d be embarrassed as hell if he fucks this up, after having been so gung-ho about doing it to begin with.

D groans above him as he takes the whole of D’s cock in his mouth, and Leon can’t help but grind his own hips against the bed, just a little bit.  It’s fucking  _ hot _ , hearing D lose control like this, and he figures he can’t be blamed for being really, really turned on by all of it.

He starts bobbing his head, slowly, taking his time in finding a rhythm as D’s fingers tighten in his hair.

“Oh, Leon,” D breathes out, his voice strained with need.  “I fear I won’t last very long.”

Leon speeds up his movements, wanting to make D feel as good as possible, to give him just what he needs in the midst of this moment.  Inspired, he slides one hand down D’s inner thigh to tease the folds of his pussy, just a little, just enough.

D cries out, and Leon’s not quite expecting it when he comes — he doesn’t have time to pull off, so he just takes it, trying to swallow around D without choking. 

Mostly, he manages, as D’s nails dig into his scalp.  He splutters just a little at the taste of it, though, because  _ shit _ , it’s bitter in comparison to D’s pussy

“Leon?” D asks, softly, as the hand in Leon’s hair goes lax.  “Did I — oh dear. Are you alright?”

Leon laughs, a little raspily.  “Yeah, I’m good,” he says, as he pulls off.  “Did you like it? Can’t say I’ve really done that before.”

D stares at him.  “Really?”

That’s the best disbelieving praise Leon could possibly get, and he grins.  “Yeah. Like I said, I was with a girl with guy junk once, but hers didn’t work like yours.”

D groans, flopping back against the pillows.  “Detective, you are  _ very _ lucky I love you.”

Leon’s grin widens, practically beaming, and he crawls up the bed to kiss him for that one.  “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I love you too.”

“Very.”  D’s hand slips down Leon’s body, and his lips curl into a wicked smile just as his hand curls around Leon’s cock.  He strokes him, slowly, carefully. “Now, you mentioned needing to head into the precinct today, so we should perhaps deal with  _ this _ quickly, shouldn’t we?

Leon moans.  “Anything you want, D.”

“Ah, but I want to tease you.”  D smiles, rolling them both over.  “I want to take my time with you, my dear Leon.  But we just don’t have the time for that.”

He keeps stroking, working Leon faster as he leans down and worries a bruise into his neck.  “I imagine what other people will think,” D murmurs, “seeing my marks on you. Seeing that they can’t have you, because you’re  _ mine _ .”

God, that’s hot, and it absolutely shouldn’t be.  “You clawed me up pretty good a c-couple days ago,” he points out.  “Jill figured it out right away.”

“She’s a smart woman.”  D nips him again. “Now stop talking about her in my bed, won’t you?”

He twists his hand in a way that makes Leon groan and screw his eyes shut, unable to think of anything but the pleasure D is giving him.

As a result, he’s not expecting it when D shifts, and suddenly, Leon is buried inside D to the hilt.  The sudden tight wet heat is overwhelming, and Leon gasps and comes immediately, hands clutching at D’s sheets.

“Fuck,” he chokes out, eyes opening to stare at D.  

D looks beautiful, his face a little flushed as he bends, leaning down to kiss Leon.  Leon catches him around the waist and holds him there, kissing back. 

This is how he wants to spend the rest of his life, he realizes.  He wants to wake up like this for the rest of forever.

Forever.  That should scare him.

But, as D pulls back and smiles down at him, he can’t be scared of anything at all.


End file.
